DZ's RWBY Quickies
by Director DZ
Summary: A collection of hypnotic/brain draining shorts from RWBY fandoms
1. Yang's Brainfuck

**(Contains cocknosis and brainfuckery)  
**  
"What's the matter? That all you got?" Yang Xiao Long was in a pretty good mood, which made her a stark contrast to the ring of defeated fighters around her in the alley. "Heh. Typical boys. All bark and no bite. And here I was hoping for a real fight~"

The underground fighting ring had sounded like a fun time when the huntress had first heard of it. And to be fair, she hadn't been wrong, exactly. It was fun, just in the 'beat up a ton of losers' way, instead of 'fighting challenging opponents' way. Oh well! She could definitely enjoy being the uncontested top dog in a small town like this, at least until she moved on back to her mission.

"Well, don't feel too bad," she said, turning to leave, her voice anything but comforting. "There's no shame in losing to the better woman. You all crawl home, lick your wounds, and- Hm?"

She paused. There was someone else here. Standing between her and the exit of the alley was a thin man in dark clothes. Actually, he looked pretty scrawny. Was he a member of this gang as well?

"Oh, well look at that - you had another challenger hiding somewhere, did you?" She snorted. This guy was by far the most pathetic looking of the lot. A complete mook if she'd ever seen one. No way he was a serious threat. The blonde bent forwards, giving him her most confident grin. "Go on then, little guy. Show me what you've got."

But the man did something unexpected. Instead of charging in or putting up his fists, instead he reached down, and...

_Ziiiiip  
_  
"Okay, that wasn't what I- Woah." Yang blanched for a moment, and then her eyes widened as they registered the length of what emerged from the guy's pants. Now _there_ was a monster cock!

Not that that would help him.

"Cocky, aren't you?" She said, utterly unable to resist the pun. Her grin was only growing wider as he approached, his cock swinging. She didn't see any reason to move. "I bet your friends think you're a real dick. What's that thing supposed to do, huh? Do you think I'm going to fall down on my knees-"

_FWAP  
_  
"-And worship your divine dick like the brainless bitch I am, Master?" She finished with a lovestruck gasp, as the man suddenly flashed forward far faster than she expected and slapped her in the face with his dick.

Maybe it was the power of a semblance. Maybe it was some kind of magic. Maybe it was a gift from the grimm. Yang had no idea what it was. All she knew was that the instant the cock slapped into her face it smacked every thought and idea that wasn't about worshiping her master and his glorious rod right out of her head. In a split second, Yang Xiao Long went from powerful huntress to walking cocksleeve.

Her jaw dropped open, tongue lolling out as she gazed with fixed reverence at the dick that now dictated her life, unable to tear her eyes away from such a magnificent sight. Her head was spinning, her heart racing, totally unable to think about doing anything other than whatever this man wanted!

And she was about to be in luck.

"Kneel." Her master spoke, his cock still in her face.

The pavement cracked as her aura-powered knees slammed down into it. Drool was already starting to splash onto her top.

"Strip."

Another simple command that Yang was all too happy to obey. Without a moment's hesitation she reached up and grabbed her collar with both hands, before pulling them apart. Her damp top was torn apart with a lot rriiiiip and then tossed aside, her bra going with it. A moment latter the same thing happened to her shorts and panties, leaving her kneeling in the middle of the alley, naked as the day she was born.

The man chuckled, slapping his conquest in the face for a second time, and Yang felt her head go even spacier for a moment. "That's better. Not so tough now, are you whore?"

"Not at all Master!" The once proud huntress babbled happily, eager to agree with anything she was told. Her mind had been entirely rewritten with just one slap. "I'm just a stupid slut who thought she could stand up against you and got taught her place by your wonderful cock, sir!"

"Heh." The man laughed, looking down at the degraded fighter. His smile was cruel. "But you're still pretty wordy. I don't think someone as dumb as you deserves to string so much as a sentence together. Don't you agree?"

"Oh yes sir!" Despite agreeing with all of her heart, Yang couldn't help but continue to talk. "A dumb bitch like me should know her place! My lips are for sucking and my ass is for fucking!"

"That sounds about right." He drew back for a moment, his dick rubbing along the woman's face before pulling away, leaving her to whine in disappointment. "So let's give you some help with that..."

He walked around her casually, stopping on her right side and directing her to look forwards. "Now. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, bitch?"

"Certainly sir!" She was only too happy to obey! "My name is Yang XiOOoooooooohhhhhhh-!"

That cock. That magical cock. Master had just thrust it right into her ear and down into her useless, mushy brain. She moaneed loudly, pink light filling her eyes with spirals as pleasure filled her.

"Keep going, slut."

Unable to resist, Yang tried to continue, drool dripping down her chin with every word.

"M-Mah naahm ish Y-Yahng Shoaw Lung..." She stuttered. "A-ah'm a huntrsshhhoohhhhhh...~"

It was impossible. Utterly impossible. Whatever power that cock had, it had completely brainwashed the feisty Yang just by slapping her in the face. That was nothing compared to what was happening now. Her master was literally pumping his cock in through her ears and fucking her brains. The source of all that power, now directly inside her skull. Her words were turning into sludge on her tongue, and with every _**thrust**_ she was forgetting more and more of what she was trying to say...

But that didn't matter. "I can't hear you, cunt! Start again!"

Her eyes were nothing but spirals by now. She gasped with joy, feeling her master pump into her again, and rushed to speak once more, drool dripping all over her bouncing tits.

"Mm' Yong..." She managed, eyes fluttering as her mashed brains struggled to pull any information together at all. "An' M' ah... slut!"

_**Splurt  
**_  
"Oooouuuughhhhh~" The slut's tongue flopped uselessly and her eyes crossed as her Master finally unloaded inside her skull, creamy thick fluid flooding her brain. What was left of her mind melted down instantly, reducing the once fierce and proud Yang Xiao Long to nothing more than a nameless, empty headed fuckdoll, completely and utterly.

She knelt there, staring at nothing, giggling at empty air with a wide, blank smile on her face, as her Master, the centre of her dim and brainless world, pulled his cock out of her with a_ 'pop'_.

"Yes, there we go. That's much better." The man stepped back for a moment, looking over the once great huntress. Then he glanced around at his injured companions, and looked back at her with a grin. "But there's still a few more things we can do with you..."

The slut giggled.

-

No one ever knew for sure what happened to Yang Xiao Long. She simply disappeared one day, leaving no trace of where she'd gone. Some thought she fell to the grimm, like many a hunter. Some thought she'd just quit and run off to take a new identity in another kingdom. No one knew for sure.

There was only one lead, one piece of evidence that showed up on a black market a few weeks after she vanished without a trace. A video recording. A simple film.

In it, a woman who looked very much like the vanished Yang knelt, facing the camera, being vigorously fucked through her ears. She was nude, her tits bouncing into camera frame with every thrust, and across her chest the word 'Defeated' had been scrawled in permanent marker. Her eyes were pink spirals, and her mindlessly blank grin assured anyone who watched that there was absolutely no thought going on inside her head. A suspicion which would be confirmed when, after a few moments, whoever was fucking her would pump her so full of cum that some would squirt out the other side of her head, and all she did was drool.

But no one who watched the tape could believe that Yang would ever let herself be used like this - despite the similar looks, this had to be someone else. And so the evidence was discarded...

... And Yang Xiao Long was never seen again.


	2. Ruby Tower

**(Contains inanimate TF)**

"Just be careful," Ruby warned, climbing the steps to the tower carefully, the pouring rain making the old stone steps more of a hazard than the Grimm she and her team had fought to get this far. "The criminal we're bringing in has defeated at least five hunters so far. Be ready when we fight her!"

"Rumor has it they have some weird kind of semblance that makes them super powerful or something," Yang added, her arms raised to shield her eyes from the rain.

"Any idea what kind of semblance? That could mean a lot of things..." Blake looked thoroughly drenched, like a cat that had been thrown in the river, but her eyes still sharply scanned the team's surroundings, her superior vision showing her to see far more in the dripping dark than any of her teammates.

"Nope!" Ruby's tone was half apologetic, half excited. "We're going to have to work it out as we go. Isn't it exciting?"

"All the witnesses could agree on was that it was 'like magic'," Yang grunted. "She was fighting a hunter or huntress, then bam, the hunter was gone in a poof of smoke."

"Maybe teleportation?" Weiss, the last of their motley crew, was somehow the least drenched. "Maybe she's sending them... away?"

"Maybe!" Ruby nodded, finally reaching the old wooden door at the top of the stairs and putting her hand on the handle. "So be careful! Whatever you do, don't go-"

-

_*Poof*  
_  
Crescent Rose clattered to the floor as the smoke cleared. The tower was quiet, save for the footsteps of a single woman, clad in dark heels, a dark dress, and a dark pointed hat.

"Well that was exciting," the Witch said, looking around her somewhat messy kitchen, marked and charred in more than a few places by the battle that had just passed. "My, they keep sending you people after me. Is the bounty really that big? Oh, well, I suppose..." She knelt down and picked up the pleasingly shaped red flower vase that lay on the floor next to the scythe. "... I really shouldn't be calling you people anymore, should I?"

Weiss had been the first to fall, not even noticing the witch sneaking up behind them. There had simply been a _poof_ of smoke, and when the others had turned around their companion was gone. None of them had noticed the new mirror hanging on the wall with a blue-white frame and a snowflake pattern, but it noticed them, fondly reflecting their images as was its purpose.

Second and third place had been a tie. Once they'd found the Witch Yang had charged in, fists raised, aura burning, while Blake had jumped into the shadows, seeking to use her partner's attack as a distraction and strike past their target's defenses. There had been twin _poof_s of smoke, and then a hefty looking tome with a scantily clad cat Faunus on the cover landed heavily on the table, next to a golden lamp that had been sculpted in the shape of a proud naked woman with long, glowing hair and, for some reason, a cybernetic arm. The lamp shone brightly, illuminating the room with fierce devotion, while the book simply lay there, desperately hungering to be read - as was their purpose.

And Ruby, of course, so quick and nimble, fought the longest. She might have been able to flee if she'd chosen, but she could never abandon her teammates - and so she spun around the room, her semblance flaring, her weapon raised - until she, too, went _poof_, and the battle was over, her new ceramic form rolling over the tiled floor.

The Witch wasted no time putting her new property to work. Casually she filled her ruby vase with water from the tap, and then glanced around for flowers to fill it. She sighed when she saw none, before noticing again the scythe on the floor, and smiling. In but a moment she had it in her hands, and with one last _poof_, the deadly metal weapon became a slender, fragile, long-stemmed rose, which she carefully dropped into the vase, and placed in the middle of the table. Lovely! It really brought the room together.

The vase sparkled, rose petals occasionally floating up from within its hollow depths, as though from nowhere - totally committed to be fulfilling its purpose.

The Witch smiled and nodded to herself, before gathering up her new book and lamp, and carrying them off towards the stairs. She paused in front of the mirror, considering her reflection... and she smiled again as she felt gentle, obedient invisible hands adjust her dress and hat, straightening her outfit out for her, leaving just a hint of frost in the air in their wake. Then she resumed her journey, leaving the mirror to reflect the vase, and the vase to look pretty, and nothing more.

At the top of the tower lay the Witch's snug bedroom, and given the late hour she was well overdue in making use of it. She put her book and her lamp down on the bedside table before moving to get changed into her night clothes - feeling absolutely no shame about doing so in front of a pair of objects, naturally - and then finally slid into bed, taking her new tome back up as she did so. Cracking open the cover, she absently stroked a finger up her lamp's golden frame, which in turn made the lamp's hair grow brighter, until it was at just the right light to read by. And then read she did.

"Oh my," she giggled, turning a page. "Aren't you a lewd little thing?"

The book, of course, had no real thoughts about that - nor about anything, truly. Books didn't think, after all - and nor did lamps, mirrors, or vases, for that matter. But it none the less felt contentment in being used for its purpose, just as the lamp, mirror, and vase did. And as they would from now on, forever more, as simple objects, possessions, in a Witch's ever-growing collection.


	3. Juniper Tower

**(Contains Inanimate TF, a touch of gender bending, and some good ol' fashioned mind control)**

"This is the place." Jaune swallowed, looking up at the Tower as the rest of team JNPR gathered behind him. It cast a dark shadow against the starry night sky, blotting out a few fragments of the shattered moon. "This was where team RWBY was headed. Where they... disappeared."

He jumped slightly as Pyrrha put a comforting hand on her leader and partner's shoulder, though her eyes never strayed from the dangerous ground up ahead. "We should be cautious." Her voice was firm. "Team RWBY was- _is_ a powerful group of Hunters. Anything that could cause them enough trouble to make them late to call in should be taken seriously." She refused to believe the worst-case scenario - not without proof.

"Yeah..." Not for the first time, Jaune wondered if maybe he shouldn't be here. If this enemy was dangerous enough to take down their sister team, he'd probably only end up holding his team back. But... No. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang... They were their friends. They had to know what had happened. The instant they'd heard RWBY was missing - well, he hadn't even had to give the order. They'd been out the door together in a heartbeat.

"Well what are we standing around for?" Nora strode past, hammer already in her hands. "Let's get in there, smash stuff until we find what's up, and then smash some more until we find our friends!" She was eager. The air already crackled with lightning around her. She'd lost friends before - She didn't want to lose more.

"Nora." It was only Ren's voice that held her back. She stopped to look back at him - but he was looking to Jaune, waiting for orders.

Right. Time he justified his being here. The blonde coughed and straightened his back. "Alright. Nora, you're on point. If anything so much as moves, crush them."

"Can do!"

"Ren, stealth up and stay with her. Normal formation."

Ren nodded.

"I'll follow up. Pyrrha, you take the rear, watch our backs - if you see something, act - I trust your instincts."

"Of course." Despite the seriousness of the situation, she smiled at the compliment - or possibly just at seeing her partner doing a good job as leader. It could even be both.

"Alright. Team Juniper - go find RWBY!"

-

The Maid whistled a jaunty little tune quietly - she didn't want to wake the Mistress - as she began her morning sweep. The floor was filthy today - mud tracked in from the door, burn marks all over the carpet, bits of smashed furniture here and there. The Tower must have had guests last night. A rowdy bunch if she was any judge. But no matter, the Mistress would have dealt with them by now. All she needed to concern herself with was cleaning.

Fortunately, her Mistress had seen fit to gift her with magical assistance when it came to that. A swish of her broom and the rubble vanished like suds under a sponge. A scrub of her cloth and the stains in the carpet just wiped away. A lick of polish and the furniture practically repaired itself, the cracks and cuts vanishing before her eyes. In no time, the kitchen was looking good as new.

The Maid paused there for a moment and took the opportunity to check herself in the mirror. Not bad, but she could be better, and nothing less than perfection would do while she was serving the Mistress. She swept her long blonde hair back over her shoulders and straightened her white lace cap, while feeling soft, frosty fingers fiddle with the ties to her black bodice, straightening the knots while leaving her deep cleavage canyon masterfully in place. She waited patiently as those same ghostly fingers fixed her white apron, dusted down her short skirt, and smoothed out her stockings, before blowing the mirror a grateful kiss - and giggling as she felt a light smack on the ass in return.

Appearance taken care of, she turned her attention to straightening out the rest of the room. Everything was neat and repaired, but it was all out of place now, and that needed dealing with. Quickly and efficiently she began sorting the various shelves, cupboards, drawers, table tops, and surfaces, organizing things just so. And then, once she was- oh no, wait, she wasn't done yet! There was a new addition to the kitchen counter. A waffle iron? Interesting, she hadn't known that the Mistress was fond of waffles. What a delightful find! She'd put it to use right away.

Smiling happily, the blonde put the new appliance in place on the kitchen counter, making sure to find it a spot where it's color scheme - green, with pink patterns painted on its surface in wavy lines - blended in nicely. Then she gracefully retrieved some waffle mix from the fridge and set it to cook.

For a moment she was worried. It didn't make a sound! But soon the scent of sizzling batter began to waft through the kitchen, and the Maid relaxed. Clearly it was just some kind of stealth cooker. How convenient.

And how tasty! She couldn't help but let out a blissful little moan as she gave the first batch an experimental bite. So fluffy, so crisp! A mouth full of cloud, wrapped up in the perfect sugary glaze. Delicious! Oh yes, this iron knew how to make a waffle, it filled its purpose nicely~ Mm, oh, she was so tempted to keep eating, but a Maid's work was never done! Maybe she'd sneak another bite later, if she was feeling naughty, but for now she had the rest of the tower to clean! So, waffles in the fridge, iron cooling on the side, and back to work for her!

And it was certainly work that awaited her. She barely refrained from gasping as she climbed the stairs to the lounge, the next room up, and found that it was in almost as bad a state as the kitchen had been. Stains, burns, cuts, rubble - heavens above, had last night's guests gotten this far? That was rather rare, the Maid was certain - indeed, she couldn't remember it having ever happened while she was employed here. Was the Mistress okay? ... Of course, she was, there was no reason to doubt. The blonde smiled and shook her head. How could she even think such a thing?

And so she calmly resumed her duties, cleaning the carpets and walls, restoring the furniture, rehousing the items strewn around the floor. The center table had been knocked over at some point, and broken into multiple pieces, which fortunately melded back together once she got to work. And she made doubly sure to place the ruby rose vase back in the middle of it from where it had been knocked to the ground, taking a deep breath of the bouquet and filling her lungs with its heady perfume as she did so. Ahh, rose petals. The scent was captivating - quite literally, unless you had the Mistress' permission to be in her home. The Maid wondered for a moment if any of last night's guests had drawn a whiff - it certainly would have calmed them down.

Then she found something new lying under the table. Hm, a pink cylinder bag of some sort. Curious, she bent down at the waist and lifted it, its contents rolling and jostling with a metallic clinking sound. It wasn't until she straightened up that she saw what it was. A golf bag, complete with a full set of clubs! Carefully she pulled one out, admiring its craftsmanship. It was well weighted and cut through the air easily when she gave it a small swing. Its handle was decorated with little pink lightning bolts, with the tip taking the shape of a full round heart. A fine piece, the Maid decided, returning it to its place in the bag. She'd had no idea the Mistress was interested in taking up golf. She'd have to start learning how to caddie...

She hoisted the bag over her shoulder, slipping one arm under the strap, and smiled as it adjusted itself to her size. It almost felt like the bag was hugging her! She did like an affectionate appliance...

There. The lounge was done. She continued her climb, traversing up along the circular stone steps that ran through the middle of the tower. Up next was the servant's quarters and general storage...

And to her wide-eyed shock, there were even signs of battle here! Good gracious, what kind of guests had visited here last night? Mm... No, perhaps it was okay. There was much less destruction up here. Clearly whatever party had arrived had been much reduced by the time it got this high. In fact, judging by the trails and marks, the Maid thought that maybe only two visitors had gotten this far. She eyed the stairs up suspiciously. Above were the Mistress's rooms. Could they have reached up that high?

Uncomfortable, she hugged the pink strap around her chest, and breathed a sigh of relief as the bag squeezed back. Everything would be okay. She just had to complete her duties and continue to clean. That was all she ever had to do.

A hasty sweeping, a serious scrubbing, and things were looking back to normal. The blonde soon found space in the games cupboard for the golf bag, which she hung on a hook with a fond smile. The Mistress often brought little games and trinkets home to play with and then forgot about them. She hoped this wasn't one of those times - they seemed like very good clubs. They should be used for their purpose.

Then, closing the cupboard, she paid a visit to her own room, a meager little box with a bed and room for her spare uniforms. The Maid was pleased to see it was undisturbed - in fact, it looked so neat she could swear it had never been used at all! But that was silly, this was her room, and she had always been here, serving the Mistress. Even if she had no memory of doing so, or indeed of anything at all before she woke up this morning, she knew that to be true in her heart and soul. That was simply how it was. That was her purpose.

So she closed the simple door to her simple room, and with a deep breath began to ascend the stairs. The Mistress would be up here, she could set her fears at ease. It was only a question of if any of last night's guests had reached this far - and if so, how much of a mess there was to clean up.

"Mistress?" She called, her soft voice carrying through the room as she series through the door. "Am I disturbing you?"

"No," came the casual answer. "Come on in."

The Maid entered, looking around. Yes, there were signs of a fight in here as well - but there was her Mistress, resting on the bed, reading a book. Despite her complete confidence, the blonde felt herself relax at the sight, glad to know that all was indeed well.

And speaking of, the Mistress was looking at her now, a questioning expression on her face, as though she was trying to place something. "Which one were you again?" She asked, much to the Maid's confusion, before she snapped her fingers. "Oh right, yes, the helpless blonde. I remember now. Done with your tidying?"

"I've cleaned the lower floors, yes," the Maid answered with a curtsy, letting any confusion fall away. Mistress would say strange things from time to time, that was what being Mistress was all about. "And tested your new appliances. The waffle iron is perfect, I'd be happy to use it to prepare breakfast for you, and your new golf clubs have been stored in the games cupboard, for when you next wish to play."

"Mm..." Mistress smiled, her attention turning back to her book. "Didn't you turn out well? Breakfast sounds delightful once you're done cleaning up, and perhaps we'll go out golfing this afternoon. I need a bit of practice, after all, if I'm going to be winning any tournaments."

"Tournaments, Mistress?" The Maid tilted her head. She hadn't known that Mistress was the competitive type!

"Oh yes." The Witch turned a page, and as she did she glanced up at something across the room from her. "I've found myself developing something of a taste for... trophies."

The blonde followed her gaze, and her jaw dropped. There, in a glass cabinet against the wall, was a truly awe-inspiring award. It was tall, perhaps two thirds her own height, and glittered with precious metals and colorful jewels. It took the form of a rising pyramid of columns, rising steadily in layers decorated lavishly with sculptures of a female figure wielding a sword, a shield, a lance, or a gun in various action poses - and then at the top, on the highest pedestal, was that figure again, her naked curves expertly detailed in solid gold. She was saluting, a blank smile on her face, acknowledging her owner's superiority.

A plaque at her feet simply read: Champion Trophy.

"Do you like it?" The Mistress inquired, putting a bookmark between her pages and sliding her latest read back onto the shelf, striking her lamp to turn it off. "It was quite hard to get."

"It's beautiful, Mistress," the Maid had no reason to deny it. "In fact, I dare say it's unlikely that any golf championships will have awards anywhere close to its equal..."

"Hmm. They might when I'm done with them." The Witch smiled as she got to her feet and headed for the door. "I'm going downstairs. Why don't you give my new trophy a good clean, and then get started on breakfast? And do make it a big one - I had quite the workout last night~"

"Of course, Mistress." Another curtsy as the Mistress left, and then the Maid set about her task, pulling out a dusting cloth and a can of polish. She would, of course, be thorough. She was going to dust, clean, and polish every crack, gap, nook, and cranny. This wonderful trophy stood in testament to how powerful her Mistress was, after all - all who saw it would respect its owner, the champion. That was its purpose, and she would make sure it did it well.

And as she worked, the blonde found herself thinking that, just possibly, the trophy's smile was telling her it was enjoying her treatment - or perhaps that she was doing a good job as a maid! Not that it could think of course - it was only a trophy, solid metal through and through. But on some level, just maybe...

It could even be both.


End file.
